Whatever It Takes
by Daysi5
Summary: One-shot song-fic. Peeta's experience during the first Hunger Games, written to fit the song. Rated T cause I can. Read and Review ;


A/N::: First attempt at a Hunger Games fanfic. Scenes may not be dead on accurate.

Btw::: the four line song is by PumpkinAtTheDisco on youtube. Check it out!

Disclaimer::: Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games, not I. I don't own the song either!

Whatever It Takes—Pillar -song

Peeta's POV

_What would it take  
To make you see me  
The way I see you?  
_

_Look at me, _I concentrate hard on the girl a distance away walking towards me, her short braid looking haggard as she walks side by side with Gale. Even though I've only met Katniss Everdeen once, have only "noticed" her once, I've yet to rid her of my conscious. Her shoulders are slightly hunched as they both near the Hob, game stuffed into their sacks. I'm walking towards them, my heart beating faster with every step. _Notice me. _

As if reading my frantic thoughts, her deep eyes look up from the ground, automatically locking onto my own. I lose every ounce of courage immediately, the dirt below my feet suddenly fascinating as I scurry past them, curving around Katniss and Gale widely as they veer left.

Once I'm sure they are out of sight, I sprint all the way home. Breathing hard, I cut across an alley and stop before turning the corner, staring at the spot where I had first really noticed Katniss. I slump to the ground, my legs shaking from the near encounter. I lift my palms, slapping my cheeks. _You chicken, _I tell myself. _You were so close! She saw you! She looked at you! And you ran away like you always do. _I let my head fall limp and hit the wall with a dull thump.

"Oh Katniss," I murmur silently, images of the brave and will-filled girl filling my mind, "what would I have to do, to get you to notice me like you do Gale?"

If only I could do something inspiring, something that would make Katniss Everdeen notice me. But what can a ten year-old, son of the local baker do to impress a girl who shoots and kills the squirrels I eat for dinner? I'm no hunter; nor do I have any _breath-taking _qualities like Gale Hawthorne. Nothing I do will ever be enough to compete for Katniss' heart.

Little did I know that I wouldn't have to.

_What would it take  
To make you want me?_

_The way I've always wanted you?_

"I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!" My heart nearly stops as the voice I've come to love rises above the silent crowd, shoving her way to her only sister. _I should have known, _I tell myself as I watch the scene unravel before me. Katniss pushing her sister back, yelling at her to let go. _I should have known you'd do something like this, Katniss. _Effie Trinket starts to argue but the mayor hushes her, quickly pulling the attention away from the brave volunteer as Haymitch Abernathy quickly ruins the moment in his drunken state.

And a fleeting, insane thought crosses my mind; What if I were to volunteer? To keep Katniss safe in the Games and guarantee her return. Would that make her want me? If I was willing to throw my life away for her own, would she appreciate it and be able to make my last days happy ones?

Before I can even distinguish my own thoughts, Effie Trinket is already shoving her hand into the bowl, smiling widely. My hands start to sweat, my heart pounding at the idea of volunteering myself. _I'm going to do it, _I think, _I'm going to volunteer. _

"Peeta Mellark!" My mouth opens, the words _I volunteer! _on my tongue, and then I shut it. Me?

Shock, rage, frustration, anxiety all shoot through me at once. I was willing to volunteer, I was _going _to. But the fact that I'm being forced, the idea that I will not be able to have a second thought brings out stirred and confused emotions.

_It's not fair! _I let my fear and shock come through on my face. _I was going to be noble! It was going to be my moment to prove to Katniss my feelings! _My steps are stiff; I try to stay emotionless as possible, taking my place beside Katniss who wears a look of horror. Does she despise me, for that one time I gave her bread? Or is she upset that she'll have to kill me?

I can understand her, though. When I had imagined myself being chosen for the Games, I imagined my will to live become stronger than ever at every thought of Katniss. I imagined winning, coming home and being showered with gratitude and kisses. And Katniss would appear and ask me how I did it, how I managed to survive the cruel Games.

And I would walk up to her firmly and kiss her like I've always wanted to, watch Gale mourn his loss out of the corner of my eyes as I tell her, "You were the reason, dear Katniss. I wanted to return home if only to see your face once more."

But I see that is beyond impossible. How would I return without having the blood of the one I loved on my palms?

I clench my fists, my resolution made. _You will survive, Katniss Everdeen. I will make sure of it. _

_I don't know why  
You're in everything I see_

She was everywhere.

She was the tree I was desperately grabbing onto; she was in the air, her voice luring me away from Cato, lying unconscious with my sword anchoring him through his bicep. She was in the trees, laughing as she danced across the branches, the natural order of life stopping to listen to her magical voice, the song I first heard her utter rising all around me.

_I'll follow you  
To the valley  
May we rest our heads  
In respect_

Even as I fall, tripping over roots that whispered my name in her voice, I can see her, hear her, feel her. I want to know she is alright. I want to see her, even as this tracker jacker poison floods my veins.

_I can't deny  
That you're everything I need_

In truth, when I had admitted to Haymitch about my plan about being the star-crossed lovers, I was afraid. Afraid Katniss would disagree, loyal to Gale. Afraid that she'd see past my motive and realize my feelings for her.

Because I cannot deny that Katniss Everdeen has stolen my heart; she is everything I need. Even as I lay here dying, I am flooded with relief. I managed to stop Cato and wound him. The rest of the Careers took the brunt of the tracker jackers; I myself got away with more than enough stings. But Katniss is safer than before; I've done enough. I can rest…

_So I'm reaching…_

So why do I still feel the need to reach out to her? To grab her and cocoon her with my love? How is it that Katniss has managed to keep me reaching for her, even as death is wrapping its tight vines around my throat? Reaching…. I can see her, shining in all her glory, crouched in front of me. So I see she has managed to get her bow and arrow. She is shimmering, so heavenly. If I could just touch her, to just feel her skin on mine once more….

Even as I reach out, I know I've failed. Because the once singing image of Katniss is fading, her smile and laugh deforming into a frown and sob. Why is she crying? Katniss, I'm still here. If I could just reach her…

My hand falters, falling to the ground with a pitiful splash. It is the end, I know it is. I feel a soothing coolness engulf my hand. So this is how the end begins, then? From my hand, to my arm and then… _and then what?_

I manage to stretch my wrist but it seeps any energy I've managed to conjure. Everything seems to glow, shimmering like Katniss had, as I open my eyes. A blue, light-induced jagged streak seems to separate me from shining orange land where Katniss is standing.

_You're here, _I think. She smiles and nods, as if understanding me. Her image is so distorted, I see five Katniss' at once; but it is so alluring, my final thought is, _I want to die on that. I want to die on that orange next to Katniss._

_Whatever it takes to get to you  
Whatever it takes to break through_

It is an impossible thought. But it doesn't stop me from hurling my own body into the glimmering blue line. Because even if it means throwing myself to my death, I would do anything to get to Katniss. I had joined to Careers, enduring their abuse to get to her, to _find _her.

And I will not stop at this shining blue line. I will break through any wall, any barrier, if it meant dying next to Katniss. I went through Hell to get to her; I wasn't going to stop at some sparkly moving blue bed.

The frigidness hits me so hard and fast, I gasp as I land face first into what I thought to be a painted blue streak. It numbs me wholly; my teeth chatter so fast I cannot comprehend what happened.

But it subsides and I am left with only clear-minded thoughts that finally make sense. Katniss was never with me. She would have killed me, thinking I had betrayed her when she saw me with the Careers. But I had attacked Cato in defense of a disoriented Katniss who had suffered tracker jacker stings. I had left him to die when I ran into a mass of tracker jackers, veering me off Katniss' path. I had escaped, only to collapse with madness, only to find myself in a stream, alone and alive. Cold, in pain and injured, but alive nonetheless.

_Whatever it takes you are my reason  
For everything I do_

I was crawling my way away. Not really crawling, more like dragging myself through a current of water that seemed to change pressure every once in a while, the temperature varying. I know the Gamemakers could probably drown me at any second. But they seem to enjoy letting the viewers watch me suffer as I drag the lower half of my body further down the creek bed. Cato had given me a going away present, a lovely, nasty cut on my thigh. It was numb now, in the freezing water. It burned when they decided to have the water boiling, but I persevered, making as much noise as possible.

I was dying. I know I am. But if I can lure any remaining players away from Katniss, I will. The little red swelling bumps dotting my bed here and there? Small prices to pay for finding Katniss. The gushing cut across my thigh? Small punishment for letting Cato near Katniss, only to lose her again. The loud out bursts of pain and curses as I heave myself at a snail's pace? My way of trying to make up for my crudeness to Katniss.

These last few days have been for her. Every injury I have endured is for the girl on fire. Because even though she did not realize it, she had lit my way through our early life. I got out of bed every morning not for my loving and doting mother, but for Katniss, whose smile from afar could make anyone's day. I worked in the bakery not for my father-of-no-words, but for the opportune chance to catch a glimpse of Katniss making her way to the Hob. Everything I did, everything I _do _is for Katniss. _My _Katniss.

_Whatever it takes_

_Whatever it takes to get to you_

I stop immediately when I hear a cannon go off. Another follows. My throat constricts as something seems to grasp my heart and squeeze. _You can't die, Katniss. I won't let you. _I search my heart for any displacement.

My father told me that when people close to you die, you feel like you've lost a part of your heart. But the gory pain in my leg is too strong, the feeling of despair almost overwhelming to differentiate any inner pain. So I focus on surviving. The chances of Katniss surviving are slimming, I realize. If something happens to her, I have to try and survive for the sake of our district. I cannot let the Careers win. Even if I end up losing Katniss, I want to do whatever I can to prove to her I was never her enemy. Whatever it takes to win her over, I'll do it. Whatever it takes to get to her.

_What would it take  
To make you fall for me  
The way I fell for you?_

I watch as she receives the package, a new light in her eyes as the thundering storm rages on around us. Somehow, miraculously, Katniss had managed to find me, after killing off a boy who had murdered Rue, a young girl from District 11. Katniss had pushed aside her grief to heal my infected leg, dragging on my temporary life. She tells me, though, that they changed the rules: there can be two victors from the same district this year. As she tells me this, her eyes are full of determination and fire. I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm going to die eventually. There have never been two victors; the Gamemakers will undoubtedly change the rules or make it impossible for us to win. Besides, I am willing to throw my life away for hers. We will not always be safe as were are now, separated from the Games by the heavy sheets of rain.

We have shared many kisses, some long and passionate, others short and sweet. Maybe because I am on the verge of death, or maybe she has given up hope on Gale, she has chosen to be so close to me. But in my pain-induced state, I cannot fathom as to why Katniss has been so loving, when hours ago, she tried to kill me in my sleep.

I settle on the hopeful-but-most-likely-false idea that Katniss Everdeen has finally fallen for me. But why is it that when she looks away, she can clear her emotions so quickly, it is as though her feelings for me are thin? I do whatever I can, recalling the first time I heard her sing, the first time I saw her walking proudly after her father's death, to make her fall for me, the way I fell for her. I see sparks of happiness here and there, her eyes twinkling at the memories as she lay in my arms. But when we do not talk, she is always detached, her mind elsewhere. Gale, maybe, or her family that is watching her participate in the Games.

How is it that I cannot get Katniss Everdeen to fall for me?

_What would it take  
To make you fight for me  
The way I always fought for you?_

The fevers have been more and more frequent, hitting me at my worst as I try to keep the food down. I see Katniss' anxiety increase as my conditions worsen. But she is idle; she does not believe in her own healing abilities. She keeps me comfort and relieves my fevers with drenched rags on my forehead. But I can see her forehead creasing constantly as she struggles to remember her mother's remedies.

I faintly wonder what it would take to make Katniss take action. Would I have to spit my guts? Start chanting nonsense, becoming possessed? I hope it its nothing; I do not want her to leave my side. I want to spend my last days with her in our cavern, together, as the world watches us star-crossed lovers.

But then the announcements come, briefly summing up the feast; a chance for every tribute to receive what they need the most.

I am filled with dread. When Katniss' face lights up, I tell her no, no, she cannot go or I will follow her and get myself killed. She surrenders eventually, but the dread does not leave. Instead it grows to a ticking bomb.

When she feeds me the berries, I can feel the ticking grow louder, but ignore it. When the sudden wave of drug-induced sleep hits, the bomb goes off inside of me, I know I've lost.

_I don't know why  
You bring me to my knees_

I dream of Katniss. Of her betrayal. Standing over me, arrows pointed down at me. I don't know why my dreams portray her as devilish, when she is risking her life to save mine. Maybe because she went directly against everything I asked for. The fact that she _drugged _me, and left me to worry over her and if she can make it back.

Oh Katniss Everdeen, even when you are risking your own life for my own, going against my threats, you've forced me to fall deeper in love for you, if such a thing was possible. You were able to, once again, bring me to my knees and compel me to admit defeat.

Are you happy now?

_But I can't unwind  
From how you've twisted me_

_You manipulated me; you DRUGGED me, and went against everything I told you! How could you, Katniss? I told you not to go, and you went! You betrayed me! _That was what I had told myself I would say upon Katniss' return, once I wake up from my drug-induced sleep and got my body moving again.

But when she stumbled in, her face bloodied, my mouth was ajar, no sounds coming out as she stabbed my numb arm before fainting. I couldn't move; the drug had a paralysis after-effect, but seeing her physical state, I worked nonstop to get my limbs moving. Once I did, I took care of her wounds, cleaning them to the best of my abilities, twisting back into the sentimental and kind Peeta that Katniss has molded out of me.

I've never been short-tempered, but being with Katniss could cause anyone to the brink of insanity. Instead, I've fit my emotions to her own, being rational when she couldn't, being her stable pillar when she failed to hold in her emotions.

So when she came to, half-dead and drained, instead of yelling and ranting, I took to being calm and rational. I made sure she ate, was breathing, and slept. Because no matter how hard I wanted to, I could not uncoil from the tight and lucid twist she has made me into.

And honestly, I don't mind.

_Whatever it takes you are my reason  
For everything I do_

"GO!" The mass of muttations bearing down on us was not a sight I wanted to live after. I wanted to drop dead right there, dig deep into the ground, and burrow underground for centuries. But Katniss was heading to where Cato had hid, and no doubt he would try to feed her to the mutts.

So I run as fast as I can manage, hobbling along, my breaths unsteady and shallow. _Have to get to her, must guarantee her safety _I tell myself. She's screaming now, from the top of the Cornucopia, Cato catching his breath behind her. Any second, he could choose to just kick her off, leaving us both helpless against the hoard of mutts. I can feel their breaths down my neck, their sharp paws clawing at my heels as beads of sweat break out all across my soon-to-be-corpse.

I grasp Katniss' outstretched hand, relief flooding me once I arrive safely on top.

But it is too soon and short-lived. Cato is already moving, and I shove Katniss out of his grasp, only to find that I was his aim all along. I slump against his iron grip, the reality of all too much. I have to assure Katniss' safety, and make sure all threats are non-existent, along with me.

_Whatever it takes to get to you_

_But… but we can both live… _I finally realize the impact of those words.

Two tributes.

One district.

Two victors.

Katniss and I could survive this ordeal and arrive safe, _together. _

Before I know what I'm doing, I point at Cato's hand, locking my gaze with Katniss'. She understands.

The arrow flies and lodges itself into his hand. I claw at the cup as she continues to shoot, Cato falling back, desperate to take me with him. But my will to survive is stronger than ever. I grasp hard until my fingers bleed, I gasp in relief when the pressure behind me is gone, along with the presence.

_Whatever it takes_

With her help, I manage to stay above the hungry mutts as Cato falls. His death is imminent and slow. I begin to lose my sanity as Cato fights to stay alive below us as we huddle together, our resources gone. Instead of dwelling on the dying boy and his past, I focus on the shuddering girl beside me.

I was able to survive with Katniss, through all this hell. I went beyond my own expectations, doing whatever it took to keep Katniss alive. Tired and cold, we sit on top of the Cornucopia for hours. I wrap my thin arms around Katniss, who doesn't resist. I knew I would face endless glory alongside my heart's love. But the sweetest success was the fact that, even though there were no hundred pounds of flour sacks, I managed to keep Katniss alive and well.

For once, things were starting to look up.

A/N::: I know I left it off right before the whole berry-thing, but I couldn't keep it going. It's late, I'm tired, and I just HAD to finish this.

Reviews do help, ya know. They help the writer know if they should continue writing *hint hint*

So… REVIEW


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